


still in bloom from morning shower

by platonics



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Character Study, Developing Relationship, F/F, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Introspection, Nonbinary Character, Other, Personal Growth, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 17:03:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19931494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platonics/pseuds/platonics
Summary: "They had referred to Yumeno as Himiko-chan. Kirumi wondered if there was some worth in absolution." // Kirumi had never had an identity outside of her job.





	still in bloom from morning shower

**Author's Note:**

> the killing game was a simulation/virtual reality in this fic, so everyone is alive! 
> 
> also, everyone knows that kork fucks but that's no surprise.

Kirumi Toujou had never known much of compassion. One might say that it was necessary to become a maid as skilled as her, but that was simply not true. Quite the opposite, in fact. True affection for her clients would be nothing but a liability. As long as she could put on a convincing enough act, her true feelings didn’t matter. Honor, devotion...These things mattered to her, but in a broad, greater good sort of sense. And even then, self-preservation trumped all.

She’d never thought of herself as callous. What did it matter, if she got the job done? Even when she killed Hoshi, knowing she’d be condemning everyone else in the academy along with him, that was just fine. The nation was more important.

She thought that another killer would understand, out of everyone. She was wrong.

Kirumi didn’t know the full story of what had happened after her own untimely demise, but the concept of Shinguuji Korekiyo being a coldblooded killer wasn’t a difficult one to grasp. Even in her own interactions with them, there had been something _off._ Some fundamental lack of empathy that was almost reassuring. If someone else was so much more cruel, then she herself wasn’t so bad in comparison. At least she wasn’t selfish, right? She was just doing her job. It made her feel better after waking from the simulation, at least for a little while.

Kirumi was no longer a maid, but it was what she knew. It was preferable, certainly, to the pointless, nothing life that the ‘real’ Kirumi had apparently lived. So she continued working for her ‘classmates,’ the friends she’d betrayed. She received no compensation for her work, save for the occasional smile or words of thanks. That would have to be enough. That was her penance, scorned by those who hadn’t stooped to murder. Not as much as Shirogane or Shinguuji, no, but she could still feel them judging her.

It was while gathering up Yumeno’s laundry that all of her illusions were shattered. A men’s shirt, impossible not to notice. This almost certainly belonged to Shinguuji, Kirumi realized. She’d spent enough time doing everyone’s laundry at the academy to recognize sizes and brands. Her grip tightened on it for a split second before tossing it into the laundry basket with the rest. A pair of Yumeno’s tights were torn, as if someone ripped them with their fingernails. She refused to dwell on the implications of that.

“Shinguuji-kun, a word? Or, Shinguuji-san. My apologies,” Kirumi said, grip tightening on the stack of clean laundry in her arms. A maid should always strive to remember important details about their clients without being told, including terms of address. The Ultimate Maid wouldn’t have slipped up, but she was no longer an Ultimate anything.

“Ah, Toujou-san. No need to trouble yourself,” they said, voice as placid as it had ever been in the simulation. “Either is acceptable. Now, what is it you wished to speak to me about?”

“I was merely wondering whether you’d like your laundry delivered to your own room, or to Yumeno-san’s.” The words were a little embarrassing to get out, but she drew some small comfort in the fact that Shinguuji seemed to think so too, if the way they hastily averted their eyes from her was any indication.

“I see. You have laundry to deliver to her as well, yes? In that case, please save yourself the extra trip. Himiko-chan’s room is fine.” They sometimes wore masks that exposed their neck these days. There was a bruise blooming blue-violet on their neck, stark against the pale skin. She didn’t want to stare, but she could almost see the bite mark. Kirumi had sewn Yumeno’s tights back up. She wondered, behind a blank expression, how sharp Shinguuji’s nails were.

They had referred to Yumeno as Himiko-chan. Kirumi wondered if there was some worth in absolution. 

“Certainly. Don’t hesitate to tell me if there’s anything else you need. And, Shinguuji-san, you...” She trailed off, gesturing to her own neck. Far from looking embarrassed, she could see them grin under their mask, fabric shifting ever so slightly. Shinguuji nodded, toying with their hair with bandaged fingers.

“Yes, I’m aware, thank you. I’ve changed since my death, just as everyone else has, but love is still a beautiful thing, don’t you agree?”

* * *

Kirumi did agree, though she had her doubts regarding whether she’d ever get to experience it herself. What kind of monster was she if even Shinguuji was more capable of having a loving, supportive relationship than she was?

“You shouldn’t let Momota push you around so much. He can do his own chores.” The voice belonged to none other than Harukawa, intense enough to make her stop in her tracks. The other girl was frowning, one hand tugging at glossy brown hair, but Kirumi had no doubts that this girl, acting almost shy and...tsundere, Shirogane would probably call it, could easily kill anyone she pleased.

They were similar in some ways, cold and focused on the job, and she appreciated that. Harukawa would be pleasant company, if genuine friendship was something that Kirumi allowed herself to indulge in.

“I can assure you that I don’t mind. Serving others is the job of a maid, after all, no matter the client. If any requests went beyond the boundaries of what is acceptable, I would say so.”

“You’re not a maid anymore,” Harukawa said. “None of us are bound to careers someone else made up for us. There’s no point in wallowing and clinging to a past that doesn’t matter. We can all be something different now...Even someone like me. So why are you still walking around this place washing other people’s dishes and vacuuming the carpets?”

“It’s what I know,” Kirumi replied simply. Harukawa hadn’t worded it as such, but she’d take it as a request to answer her question. “It’s comforting, I suppose.”

“Lots of things can be comforting. Doesn’t mean they’re good for you.”

Before she could formulate a decent response to that, Harukawa walked away, shadow flashing in and out of view as she wove between the trees. Kirumi wasn’t sure that anything about her was healthy, really.

* * *

Yumeno was good with her hands, Kirumi learned. In the midst of doing some light dusting, she spotted the other girl, brightly colored thread spiderwebbing over the surface of the table she was sitting at. Small, deft fingers knotted a few different colors together, then started braiding them in an elaborate pattern without even looking. 

“Hey, Toujou,” Yumeno said, cocking her head sleepily. For all that she looked like she was about to pass out, her fingers hadn’t slowed or faltered. “What’s up?”

“Nothing in particular,” Kirumi replied. “Just attending to my usual cleaning.” She frowned, running her cloth over a particularly fussy path between a scattered collection of knickknacks. The aesthetic of the common room was eccentric to say the least, but there was no good in complaining. They were all lucky to have a place to live at all. “And what about you, Yumeno-san? What are you working on?”

“Mm, it’s kinda stupid,” she said. “Just making bracelets.” Ah. Kirumi had never indulged in the practice herself, but she knew that making friendship bracelets and the like was a relatively common hobby. “I never really got the chance to do that kinda thing when I was younger, and they’re fun to make, so...” Yumeno offered a halfhearted shrug. 

“They look lovely,” Kirumi said, after stepping close enough to take a cursory glance at the half-finished bracelets. “I find that it’s quite nice to feel like I’m doing something productive. Perhaps it’s the same for you.” Slowly, without consciously deciding to do so, she sat down across from Yumeno at the table, setting her cleaning rag aside. 

“Something like that. Plus it’s just nice to do stuff for someone you care about, y’know? It’s...well, it’s hard to explain, because it’s sort of an inside joke, but...I’m making them for me and Kiyo-chan...Er, I mean, me and Shinguuji. It’s really sweet how happy they are when I do anything for them, even if it’s just a joke like this. So it’s not that I like working for the sake of it...I just like it if it’s something that’ll make them happy.” Yumeno’s face had gone rather pink, and she was staring down at the tabletop, winding the loose thread around and around her fingers, until Kirumi was certain she must be close to cutting off the circulation. 

“I understand,” Kirumi said, even though she didn’t. “If you ever wish for my help in these endeavors, I’d be happy to assist.”

“You’re not gonna act all weird about us being together?” Yumeno’s brows furrowed, but the threads around her fingers loosened like some small creature taking a breath. In that moment, Kirumi could almost understand the reverence in Shinguuji’s voice when they spoke about her. 

“Why would I? If you’re happy, it’s not my place to pass judgment on it. And in any event, it would be hypocritical of me to judge Shinguuji-san too harshly. I’m a killer too, after all.” She smiled briefly — performative empathy. Sometimes she wished she was as comfortable with being openly cold as Harukawa was. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel so guilty about it. “They do seem...incredibly happy with you, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

“Thanks. It’s not something I ever would’ve expected, but...somehow it just works. If the killing game had been real, I never would’ve gotten to experience it at all. So it feels like fate, in a way.”

“What did they do to be redeemed in your eyes, to make you care about them?” Her voice wavered slightly, but Yumeno didn’t even bat an eye. The thought that someone that lethargic cared about _anything_ was remarkable. 

“It’s not like that, Toujou.” Letting go of the thread entirely, Yumeno drummed her fingers against the table, fingernails clacking on wood. “I mean, yeah, they apologized to me, but they didn’t _make_ me like them. It wasn’t any one thing they did; it was just...them. Just existing.” A moment passed, time stretching like molasses between them. “You can’t force feelings. There’s no recipe for it. It just...is what it is. I’m me, and Kiyo is Kiyo, and together we’re more than that.”

“I see. Well, thank you for speaking with me. I’ll let you get back to what you were doing. I have quite a lot to do today as well.”

Kirumi should have cleaned out the communal fridge and mopped the floors, but instead she sat outside and watched Harukawa train. 

* * *

“You’ve been letting other people do some of the cleaning.” Kirumi startled at that, flinching slightly before she turned her head to find Harukawa standing there. Her out of the blue observations could be quite jarring, given how good she was at moving silently. She never did this to anyone else, as far as Kirumi could tell. Just her.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said to me the other day. Considering whether others might truly wish for me to explore things simply for the sake of doing so. I...had a rather enlightening conversation with Yumeno-san as well.” At her mention of Yumeno, she saw Harukawa’s lips briefly twitch into a smile.

“Yumeno, huh? Yeah, she can be unexpectedly inspiring once in awhile.” Harukawa chuckled, lifting a hand to tuck a bit of hair behind her ear. There was a red and black friendship bracelet on her wrist. It seemed that Yumeno had ended up making them for more than just herself and Shinguuji.

“She’s very different than the person I remember interacting with during the killing game. I certainly never would have expected to find myself getting advice on feelings from her. She must have grown a lot.”

“She did. She kinda reminds me of the younger kids at the orphanage in a way, the ones I had to look after. Or a sister, maybe, but I can’t say I know what that’s like.” She paused for a moment, studying Kirumi intently. “Feelings, you said? Was this something about whatever thing she has going on with Shinguuji?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes. I was curious about how someone innocent could end up with one of the most reviled individuals in our group. It was about change, I suppose, just like you said.”

“I don’t really understand it myself. Feelings are weird, I guess.” Harukawa was looking off into the distance, fiddling with the strings of her bracelet. Even she had little nervous gestures like that, things that proved her humanity. She’d been an assassin, but also a teenage girl. A person. Kirumi still wasn’t sure that was a title she deserved herself. Harukawa, Yumeno, Shinguuji...there were cracks in all their facades, hints that they were real, that they could never be merely characters. Kirumi didn’t fidget. She didn’t have any nervous tics or quirky habits. She did what needed to be done and nothing more.

Harukawa was looking at the very people they’d been discussing, Kirumi realized. Yumeno was braiding flowers into Shinguuji’s hair, red, purple, white. Petals littered the ground around them, where they were sitting in the grass. If that had been Kirumi, she wouldn’t have been able to think of anything but the dirt she’d need to wash out of her clothes. 

Yumeno must have said something amusing, because Kirumi could see Shinguuji laughing, lifting a hand to cover their masked lips. They turned their head towards Yumeno then, very close. Kirumi, standing across the courtyard, couldn’t remember the last time she’d been that close to someone. Hoshi, maybe, when she was carrying his body. When she drifted back to reality, they’d moved, Yumeno now leaning against a tree. 

Laughter echoed across the courtyard again, loud enough that Kirumi could just barely hear it this time. Yumeno’s, now. Then they were kissing, and the change of position made sense. It must have been strategic, so that she and Harukawa wouldn’t be able to see Shinguuji’s face. Honestly, she didn’t know how people could stand to be so affectionate in front of others at all, even without odd little hang-ups like that.

One of Yumeno’s hands was in Shinguuji’s hair, tangled amongst the flowers she’d been weaving in. Kirumi looked for a moment, at Yumeno’s hand there like being away from Shinguuji for even a moment would be unthinkable. Then she looked away, dropping her gaze to the tiny plants sprouting up through the cracks between the flagstones. She inhaled, ribs like a vise.

“They care a lot about each other,” she said.

“Yeah, they really do,” Harukawa replied. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, and for just a moment, her hand grazed Kirumi’s. 

The moment passed, and she could still breathe.


End file.
